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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22538335">Not all scars fade with time and I never wanted you to see mine</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Graylines/pseuds/Graylines'>Graylines</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>All self harm is past, Bruce gets a little self depricating, Bruce used to cut, But peter's ok, Everyone involved has their shit but they're all working on it too, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Irondad, It ends good i promise, Mentions of Panic Attacks, Mentions of Therapy, Mentions of drug abuse scars, Mentions of mental spirals, Mentions of self harm impulse coping, Peter used to cut, Self-Harm, Slight Science Bros, Starts out whumpy but ends happy, Tony is pretty freaked out, Tony stark in panicked dad mode, Use of therapeutic language, everyone gets therapy, mentions of cutting, mentions of mental health issues, or at least optimistic, peter being a little shit, spiderson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 13:41:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,966</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22538335</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Graylines/pseuds/Graylines</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>While checking Peter over in the medbay bruce discovers neat rows of scars that march their way up the back of peter's thighs. The thought of Peter young and small as he is making the same mistakes Bruce did, hating himself the way Bruce still sometimes does, makes his stomach roll. He knows he has to tell tony. And he knows he isn't gonna take it well.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bruce Banner &amp; Peter Parker, Bruce Banner &amp; Tony Stark, Peter Parker &amp; Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>354</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Not all scars fade with time and I never wanted you to see mine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>There are less than eloquent mentions of self-harm and mild descriptions. If you are uncomfortable with the material please leave the fic. Keep yourself safe.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bruce was surprised. Maybe he shouldn't have been. Tony had told him some things. Slumped over on the lab floor hyperventilating. Iron spider schematics pulled up all around him.</p><p>Peter had made a bad joke. Cursed at the burn on his hand and said he wanted to die. Tony had looked at him concerned, the comment leaving a bad taste in his mouth. Peter sensed the unease in his mentor and spoke up before he could complain. "Don't worry Mr stark, it's a joke. If I died who'd take care of may?"</p><p>It was supposed to make Tony feel better. But it didn't. It seemed too much like a practiced justification. One of the dumb things he used to say at parties after making similar jokes. "Sorry boys can't overdose tonight, who'd inherit the company."</p><p>That had been a bad night. Dredged up some old anxiety that clouded his head until he couldn't focus on anything but safety features for peter's suit. The panic attack protocol alerted bruce. And they talked for a while. </p><p>Tony couldn't tell him too much about peter's past. "You know it's not my place to air the kid's laundry." But he'd gotten the basic rundown, orphaned at 6, uncle died in his arms, one surviving family member in the whole world. It was the kind of trauma that usually led to more. Usually led to scars.</p><p>Scars like the ones on Bruce's thighs. Neat rows of then white lines intersected by deeper jagged drags. Like the ghosts of track marks up the inside of tony's forearms.</p><p>When Friday called him down the infirmary to look over an injured spider-man he'd thrown on his lab coat and rushed in with intention. The intention to fix and heal. It was the one thing about Tony's instance on his involvement in the clinic that he actually enjoyed. The feeling of fixing something for someone that actually matters. Even if he was only about as qualified as an NA and really more useful anywhere else.</p><p>It had been easy enough with Helen's excellent guidance to set Peter's arm and stitch up the lacerations in his leg. They'd stripped him down to his spider-man themed boxers and got and IV in him. Always important to keep the super metabolisms hydrated and on a mild liquid nutrition when they were healing major injuries. Or what would have been major on anyone else.</p><p>It was while maneuvering the drowsy spider child under the covers that bruce noticed them. Peter had flopped over on his side already curling an arm under his head and nodding off. </p><p>Neat rows of little white lines peaked out from under the edge of the novelty boxers. Wrapping around the back of peter's thigh. Bruce hesitated. Unsure of what he should do with this discovery. On one hand, it wasn't his place to go poking at anyone else's scars. But on the other the sight of those specific scars on peter's leg made his skin burn all along his legs and sides and arms where similar scars cut across. </p><p>The thought of Peter in some of the positions bruce had been in over the years. Splayed out on a dirty bathroom floor the blade of a pencil sharpener pinched between two fingers. It made him sick to imagine. </p><p>But if he tattled to Tony and they were old or some misunderstanding or even if they were fresh and he responded badly, started distancing himself. There were so many ways for this to go wrong. But he could check at least make sure they weren't fresh or deep. For his own peace of mind.</p><p>He carefully and a bit awkwardly shifted the leg of peter's boxers higher trying to get a look and the skin of his thigh without accidentally exposing the kid.</p><p>The lines all looked old as far as he could see. Two little rows stretched from mid-thigh up. One on the back of each leg one on the inner sides curling up the inside of his leg and facing each other. He breathed an unsteady sigh of relief. He'd have to talk to the kid when he came to but Bruce wouldn't need to rat on him either. Of course, Peter always healed too quickly nowadays maybe he's wrong.</p><p>He startled at the sound of a throat clearing behind him. He turned around a sort of hot dread curling in his stomach at the very creepy position he'd put himself in. </p><p>Tony stood in the doorway, arms crossed and eyebrow raised looking confused and defensive. "Bruce, buddy, I'm gonna need an explanation on this one. Cause I'd been certain up until thirty seconds ago that you were as clean as they come but you gotta know how that looked. It looked like you had your hand in my kid's pant and I'm gonna need a reason not to hit you."</p><p>The discovery of Peter's self-harm scars wasn't an easy realization for Tony. He knew Peter hardly scared since the spider bite. Not unless an injury was severe for his standards or he was malnourished or something else delayed the healing process.

That meant that either the scars we're from before the bite or they had been a hell of a lot deeper than they looked now.</p><p>Neither option seemed better than the other. Peter was thirteen when he got bit. The thought of teeny tiny Peter Parker riddled with asthma and anxiety cutting himself was stomach-turning. But the thought of spiderman coming home from patrol and sawing into his thighs wasn't any easier to swallow. </p><p>Tony sat beside the hospital bed with his head between his knees. The beginning of another "bad night" already clouding his head. Bruce wasn't doing much better. You'd think getting accused of being a child molester would be the thing to ruin his night but the feel of Peter's leg, thin and light reminding him so sharply that this was a child, when he'd slid it under the blankets.</p><p>Peter was so small. So good. So happy. At least he acted like it. But so had tony. Acted like he was ok. Acted like he was having fun. Acted like he wanted it.</p><p>He tried to steer his thoughts away from those bad memories. Tried to match the steady sounds of peter's breathing, feeling the air spread his achy lungs with each inhale.</p><p>Peter was safe for now. Curled up on his side one hand dangling off the edge of the bed. No words were passed between the two of them. But they didn't leave either. An odd feeling not unlike anticipation had settled over them. Like they were waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for Peter to wake up so they could have a serious talk or maybe waiting for him to suddenly stroke out on them or something ridiculous.</p><p>The air in the room just felt thick. They moved through the weight of their own fatigued muscles and muddied brains to try and settle into comfortable positions. Tony never left the infirmary if Peter was there and Bruce didn't feel right leaving either of them alone. So they both sat in stiff chairs quiet and motionless but not quite asleep. </p><p>They let the subject sit heavy and untouched between them even after Peter woke up. He couldn't leave the tower until his bones we're more or less mended. A rule that came about after Peter rebroke his wrist doing something stupid and hadn't realized until it didn't move right when it was healed. </p><p>He'd sat up in the clinic bed and glanced nervously between the two of them. "Why are you so twitchy? You guys didn't like amputate anything right? I still have all my limbs."</p><p>The joke got a bitter snort from Tony. He seemed a bit more relaxed after they assured him he was still technically in one piece. He'd smiled all sunshine bright and followed Tony up to the communal kitchen for breakfast. </p><p>Chatting away about school and dragging his IV line behind him. The casual way he handled injuries worried tony almost as much as the hidden scars. No child should be so used to breaking his bones.</p><p>Nat slunk into the kitchen ruffled peter's hair on bet way past the table not sparing a glance to tony who sat across from him. Each avenger took in the sight of Peter in the kitchen casually. Wishing him a good morning and wandering off with their breakfast. The routine of it all threw Tony. </p><p>How had they let it get to this point? How did they look at tiny Peter wrapped up in plaster casts and IV lines and just accept that it was normal?</p><p>He knew he was going to have to address it. And soon. As much as a part of him was rejecting the idea the hot dread in his gut might burn a hole in him if he didn't talk to Peter about it soon.</p><p>That dread rolled and bubbled in his stomach creeping up his throat until It spilled out all over the table between them. Burning a hole right in peter's sunny mood.</p><p>"Kid we need to talk." Tony started abruptly cutting Peter off mid-word. The kid blanched, obviously not liking the sudden shift. But not entirely surprised either. Tony had been weird all morning.</p><p>"What about?" Peter asked with feigned indifference. He stared and the hand stirring his spoon through the last of his large bowl of cereal suddenly unwilling to look at Tony.</p><p>Tony shuddered in a breath trying not to gag on the bitter taste of his tongue. "Bruce was looking you over last night, found some interesting scars on your leg."</p><p>The stirring stopped. Peter's hand froze mid-stroke, his whole body going stiff. He glanced to the side obviously trying to assess whether anybody in the living room could hear them from the kitchen. No one with super hearing seemed to be in the vicinity which relaxed him a little.</p><p>But he didn't respond or look at Tony.</p><p>Tony sighed again shuddering on his next intake of breath. "You wanna tell me about them?"</p><p>Peter shook his head. His lack of response and eye contact suddenly grating on Tony in a way he knew was his brain processing his fear as aggression. He did his best to stuff it down but his next statement still sounded a bit clipped.</p><p>"Let me rephrase that, tell me about those scars, Peter." </p><p>Peter dropped his soon letting it clank loudly against his bowl. He fell back in his chair putting some distance between them, and finally looked at Tony, his face composed but honest in the way it was when he usually talked about his past. But there was frustration too in his pin-straight posture and the subtle clench of his jaw. </p><p>"Not that you're entitled to any explanation from me about my body or my past-" peter spit a cutting edge to his tone. He paused though, at the end, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. </p><p>"I recognize that you are concerned for my well being and your intentions aren't to be invasive." The sentence was odd like the practiced and carefully worded statements a therapist would make you recite. It focused the situation in an odd way. Clearly adding to the context.</p><p>"When my parents died I didn't handle the grief well. I started self-harming a year after I moved in with May and Ben."</p><p>Seven. Oh God, Peter was seven when he started hurting himself. Tiny peter with wild unbrushed curls and thick-lensed glasses. Magnifying the meek and glassy look to his eyes. Tony had seen the pictures recognized the signs of grief but he never imagined that little boy would take it that far.</p><p>Peter continued on either unaware or uncaring of Tony's mental spiral.</p><p>"I didn't start cutting until I was ten. May found my blades the summer before middle school. Sent me to see a therapist. I went for three years until Ben died and we couldn't afford it anymore." He paused, drew a shallow breath and continued.</p><p> "I'd stopped cutting after I started therapy. After ben, I relapsed but I'd already been bitten and it didn't scar anymore. Didn't feel like it used to with my spider screaming at me, so that didn't last long"</p><p>Peter hadn't broken eye contact during his speech but something about his gaze seemed to harden now. His eyes stare through tony and into that ball of dread curled up in his stomach.</p><p>"My scars are old. I don't...don't cut anymore"<br/>
His composure finally faltered at the end. Like he was forced out of the rationalized mindset by having to admit he'd taken a blade to his skin.</p><p>Tony did some math in his head. Ben died three months into spiderman's budding career. Six months before Tony showed up in his apartment. Peter could have been cutting then. If he relapsed after Ben he could have been hiding more than his pajamas in the ceiling. Could have pulled his brand new suite on over fresh scars and rolled out to steal cap's shield all under Tony's nose. As caught up as he was in his own shit at the time Peter could have asked him for a razor and Tony would have pointed him towards his box of replacements without a second thought. </p><p>He knew, looking back that he'd screwed up a lot in the beginning. Knew he ignored the kid and pushed the responsibility off on happy. Knew that he stressed himself over the rift in the team enough that he justified bringing a child into their squabbling just to even the playing field. </p><p>But he hadn't considered that he might have missed something so...drastically important. That Peter might be falling apart after the loss of his uncle. That he might be hurting himself. That after the death of the third family member in his short life that he might need more than a suite and a pat on the back.</p><p>The signs were clear now that Tony knew what to look for. The need for approval, the erratic and impulsive behavior. Refusing to ask for help, keeping injuries to himself. That damn hug in the car. So starved for physical affection after a week away from his aunt that he'd taken to proximity as an invitation. </p><p>The list fell over tony like an unraveling scroll growing longer as he thought about it, one wooden end knocking him in the stomach on its way past. </p><p>"Why...why didn't you say anything?" The question was quiet and raw. Void of the usual roundabouts and misdirection tony crafted into sentences hoping his emotions will get lost in them. </p><p>Peter rolled his eyes a dark form of amusement crossing his face. "Hello, ironman, my literal childhood hero and a guy I just met. I know you think I'm mature enough to handle this minimal task you assigned me but I thought you should know for disclosure's sake that I'm not really mentally sound and sometimes the only way to get rid of the phantom burning in my thighs is to run a blade through them."</p><p>Peter spit the last part his voice curling around the words with disdain. </p><p>"It's not exactly something I'm proud of. And no offense but even if I had been able to get ahold of you, you didn't seem like you were doing much better than me after Mr. Rhode's accident."</p><p>It hurt to admit to himself but Tony couldn't argue with that. He'd barely kept himself from coming unglued. He has no idea what he would have...could have done for Peter at the time.</p><p>"Look Mr. Stark I know this has you all freaked out and stuff but I'm good now. Me and May are doing a lot better since she found out about spiderman and we've dealt with this before. I tell her whenever I feel the urge to cut again. We talk more about why. And you know they have alternative exercises to satisfy the urges. Rubberband around the wrist. Clenching ice in your hands and all that."</p><p>Tony's mouth starts moving before his brain tells it to. "I want you to tell me too. When you get the urge. Or tell Friday or Karen. Even if you just want to vent for a minute, come find me. And I want you to start seeing my therapist. She's good and already signed like ten NDAs so you can tell her about your spidery stuff."</p><p>Peter's eyes go wide like saucers. His hands waving like he can shoo the idea away. "No Mr. Stark, I really can't afford it and I'm doing fine on my own anyways."</p><p>Tony cuts him off. "I'll cover it kid, nat and Steve are already seeing her too so we can just consider it Avengers benefits. Health, mental, and dental."</p><p>"I'm not an avenger, remember?" Peter reminds him.</p><p>"You are when it's convenient for me," Tony replies a bit of stubborn sarcasm making its way into his tone now that his emotions weren't quite so close to breaking the surface.</p><p>"How is me going to therapy convenient for you?" </p><p>Tony ignored the question. "Might as well give in kid I've got my heart set on it now. We can be therapy buddies. Have matching t-shirts. Just as long as you don't expect to sit in on my sessions."</p><p>"Oh so it's ok for you to pry into my issues but God forbid I know about any of yours"</p><p>Tony softened for a moment. "You already know about too many of mine kid. Let me be the responsible adult for once. Pepper's been trying to get me to for years. Who knows maybe I'll be good at it."</p>
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